


Corner of the World 36: Deluge

by serafina20



Series: Corner of the World [39]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-11
Updated: 2011-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-17 22:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark finds his ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner of the World 36: Deluge

Three weeks. Three weeks since Clark had written his letter, and he still hadn't sent it to Lex. He had fully intended to send it, when he had written it. He'd reread his letter, corrected the few spelling mistakes he'd made, then found a few sheets of his mother's stationery in the kitchen and copied the letter neatly. Then, he'd stuck it in an envelope, addressed and stamped it, and walked to the post office.

He hadn't mailed it. He'd stood indecisively in front of the mailbox for ten minutes before shaking his head and going home.

For three weeks, the letter went everywhere with Clark. To school, to Chloe's, to Sunday morning coffee with Lex. And every day, Clark meant to send it.

But he couldn't. Because that would mean the things in his letter... well, they might be true. And Clark had been doing such a good job of not thinking about everything for three weeks.

Of course, he hadn't been sleeping either, but at least those nights of not sleeping hadn't been spent pondering what he was or what had happened to his parents.

Sometimes.

Oh, fuck it. He thought about it all the time. In the shower, during meals, while doing chores. It was practically always on his mind, looming. It seemed the only time he wasn't thinking about it was during class or if he was reading. Otherwise, it was always there.

Clark sighed and looked at the envelope in his hands. It couldn't hurt to send it. Right? It wouldn't do anything, right? Just... someone else would read it. Lex. And maybe, he might make everything better.

Or, it might make everything worse. The problem was, Clark didn't see how it could, so it was a chance he had to take.

Climbing out of bed, Clark threw on his clothes and ran out of his room. The sun was rising over the horizon as he hit the road, running half speed to Lex's house. Now that he'd made the decision to send it, he didn't want to wait for the post office to process the letter. He'd just drop it off instead.

Lex had sent over a new key after the locks were changed. He really wasn't trusting anyone these days, and even though he was fairly certain that the construction crew who had worked on the mansion all summer wouldn't come back, beat him to a bloody pulp, and steal his belongings, Lex had changed the locks anyway. Twice.

No one was up yet, except for the security guards on duty. Clark avoided them easily and entered through the kitchen door. Lex's breakfast tray was already sitting out on the counter, coffee pot primed and ready to brew, the area in quiet expectation of the morning to come.

Clark pulled the envelope from his pocket and laid it gently on the tray. He trusted Mabel to deliver it to Lex.

It was what could happen next that worried him.

________________________________________

"Good morning," Mabel's voice sang, breaking into Lex's dreams.

Lex started, the vision of him lounging with Clark on the beach, hand in hand, dissolving around him. He groaned, pain lancing through his sinuses as Mabel threw open the heavy curtains.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," Lex managed, voice hoarse with sleep. He rubbed his eyes and pushed himself onto his forearms. "What's for breakfast?"

"A bacon and avocado omelet, orange juice, and coffee."

"Coffee," he breathed, his voice a prayer. Then he coughed, throat catching.

Immediately, Mabel handed him a glass of orange juice.

"No orange juice." Lex shook his head as he sat all the way up. "How many times do I have to tell you?" He'd been having the same conversation with Mabel since he and Clark had broken up. It was stupid not to want it, since it was his favorite juice, but it reminded him too much of Clark. Never mind he was wearing one of Clark's shirts. It was different. Clark wore the shirt; it wasn't part of him. However, the orange juice... "I told you to buy another kind of juice."

Mabel sighed. "I have. Cranberry, prune, carrot, tomato, mango, raspberry-apple, apple, and grape. You won't drink any of them. And you love orange juice."

Lex sighed and sipped the juice. "Grape juice isn't so bad. I can switch to that for a while."

"Lex..."

"I need a break, okay?" He threw his sheet off and got out of bed. "What's a guy got to do around here to get some other fucking kind of juice?" He stormed to the bathroom.

"You know," Mabel shouted after him. "I've got to tell you that I think breaking up with Clark was just about the best idea you ever had! You're just so pleasant these days!"

"Oh, shut up!"

Lex angrily brushed his teeth, pressing so hard he was fairly certain that he was drawing blood. Washing his face was no better; he scrubbed it until his sensitive skin was red. His mood was not improved.

"I need Damien," he growled at his image. "At least he'd get me some fucking grape juice."

He threw the towel at the hamper and missed. Kicking it as he passed, he stormed back into his room.

Mabel was sitting on his bed, watching the news.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

She looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "You need to get laid, Lex."

His mouth fell open. "You do realize that you're old enough to be my mother?"

Mabel rolled her eyes. "I'm not offering. And you, sir, have double standards." She shook her head, obviously very sad to discover this failing in her employer. "Damien's almost old enough to be your father, and I saw him fellating you once."

"Oh, God," he groaned, feeling nauseous. His motherly cook who baked him brownies and kissed Clark on the cheeks was discussing his sex life. While sitting on his bed. While he was in boxers. It was... wrong. "Please, stop."

"I'm sorry. I just... I hate seeing you so unhappy, Lex." She'd been calling him Lex ever since he and Clark had broken up. It had also coincided with her taking charge of bringing him his breakfast every morning. Mabel claimed the she had the privilege of using the first name of anyone she saw in their boxers on a regular basis.

Lex had considered wearing pajamas again, but it was still too hot.

"Lex, why did you break up with him?"

He sighed and settled back on the bed, pulling his tray to him. "I had my reasons."

"But you still love him."

"Yes, but... there were issues. Okay? Please, don't push any harder." He sighed and cut into his omelet. "I miss him."

"That much is obvious. And he misses you. I've seen him in town. He looks so lost without you." Mabel looked at him closely. "And you look lost without him."

Lex's lips twitched and he kept his eyes fastened on his plate. "I am. But I'm trying to find myself. Just like he is."

Mabel shook her head. "I don't understand why you can't find yourselves together."

"Because it wasn't working. Please... it's for the best. Really."

She studied him a long moment, and then sighed. "Well. Then I won't get involved. I still think that you're an idiot, but what can I do? The two of you will have to muddle through without any guidance."

"That was the plan," he told her dryly.

Mabel patted his leg. "Here. This was on your breakfast tray when I found it this morning. I wanted to make sure it was delivered safely." She got off the bed. "And I'll see about getting you some grape juice."

"Thank you, Mabel," Lex said, turning the envelope Mabel had handed him over in his hands. It was stamped and addressed, but there was no postdate, meaning that whoever had written it hadn't sent it. Not that it was hard to figure out who wrote it; the address was written in Clark's handwriting. But why would he be writing a letter to Lex? They saw each other every week.

Lex broke the seal, pulled out the letter, and began reading.

 _Dear Lex,_ it read

 _I guess I lied earlier when I said that I hadn't thought about it. Because I guess I kind of have. This thing with Desiree brought up a bunch of things and they all keep bouncing around in my head and I... I feel like I better let them out or I'll go crazy._

 _I don't know if Damien told you or will tell you, but after Desiree tried to seduce me, I called him. I was trying to find you, but when I was on the phone with him, I kind of fell apart. I was really freaked out by what she tried to do._

 _I know she did it because she wanted me to kill you. But why me? I'm not the only guy in school that was checking her out, and wouldn't it have been better to find someone who already had a grudge against you? Like Pete or... there are others, but I'm not going to name them. A lot of guys at school are jealous of you, and I don't get why she chose the one person that wasn't to kill you._

 _Did I draw her to me somehow? Like, in some weird, freaky, alien-type way? Maybe I do that, draw people to me with an alien pheromone somehow. Remember what I told you about last summer at the pool? I mean, that came out of the blue. And Chloe and you. Well, not you; we're different. I just wonder if people who are attracted to me really aren't. They're forced to find me attractive because of some perfume or a pheromone or something? Am I as bad as her?_

 _The reverse of all that is bothering me, too. Why didn't her pheromones work on me? Wasn't I attracted to her? I'm not saying I didn't find her attractive, because I did. Damien said that there's a difference, and you can appreciate someone's looks and not be drawn to them. And I think that's how I felt about Desiree. She's a very pretty woman. But I don't think she would have set off my heat vision if she hadn't smelled like you. All I could think of while I was looking at her was you (and her, but all of us together)._

 _I understand why I'm attracted to you (besides the obvious fact that you're gorgeous). We share a bond; I can be inside you, feel what you're feeling, hear what you're thinking. We're totally in tune with each other. My attraction has always been very intense and extremely sexual._

 _Contrast that with my attraction to Lana. I loved her since the first time I met her. She was a pretty little girl in a pink swim suit and pigtails and was so nice to me. And as we got older, she only got prettier and all I wanted to do was protect her. Keep her safe and worship her. Sex... crossed my mind, but it wasn't my first impulse. And while I can get off having a fantasy about her or Chloe or any woman, it's not the same as it is with you._

 _All my life I thought I was human. I thought I was going to grow up, find a woman to marry, have kids and live happily ever after. But now I wonder: am I attracted to girls because I've been trained to think I am, or because I really am? Will I ever feel really, genuinely, sexually attracted to a woman like I am to you, or will it always be something less intense? And if I'm not, is it because a) I'm gay, b) I'm too in love with you to really want anyone else or c) because I'm genetically incapable of being chemically (is that the right word?) attracted to anyone from the human species besides you?_

 _Clark_

Lex set the letter in his lap and rubbed his eyes. Christ. Jesus fucking Christ. Nothing with Clark was ever easy. According to the date at the top of the letter, Clark had written this the same day Desiree had tried to kill Lex. So this had been on Clark's mind for three weeks.

Three weeks. Was this why he'd seemed so ... off? Quiet and distant, like his mind had been somewhere else when they were together?

They'd had coffee together every Sunday since Desiree had left. Their conversation had mostly focused around work, school, movies, and books. Clark was reading a lot recently and seemed very eager to discuss what he was reading. Lex had figured Clark just wanted to keep things light between them during their date; after all, they'd had a lot of heavy crap the last few months, and they were both still trying to figure out how to act around each other while they were separated. Their weekly date was supposed to be ... simple. Enjoyable.

Discussing Clark's heritage and Lex's dependency issues in public wouldn't be pleasant or relaxing. In fact, they'd just fight, and part of the reason Lex had wanted to separate was to stop the fighting.

A small thrill of victory ran through Lex. Clark was actually thinking about this stuff. Yes, it was one issue, and only tangentially related to being an alien, but it was something. It was thought and communication.

It was still about Lex, though. Sort of. It was....

"Shit," Lex laughed, resting his head against the headboard. "It's such a fucking teenage issue."

And it was, really. A teenage, 'Am I gay or straight or what?' issue that everyone went through sooner or later. The thing was, Clark had a valid concern. It was quite possible that he couldn't be attracted on a chemical, sexual level to any human being but Lex. And the reason he was sexually drawn to Lex was because of their bond.

Now that he thought of it, it was a little disturbing that a three year old had bagged and tagged a mate basically the first moment he landed on earth, but Lex wasn't going to complain with the outcome. It had happened, and he was grateful. For all he knew, Clark had been genetically programmed to do two things when he set down on earth: find a set of guardians and find a mate.

The thought sent the admittedly punchy Lex into peals of laughter.

He could just picture it, little Clark, pushing open the lid of his space ship and looking around thinking, "All right. Not too bad. I could have worked a little on the landing, but any one you can walk away from.... This place doesn't look bad. Now all I have to do is get settled. First a new set of parents, and then someone for the future."

Lex rolled onto his stomach, laughing harder. Remembering Kal, how serious he could look at times, how driven.... Lex could see it. See him wandering the countryside, checking off his requirements until he had all he needed: the Kents and Lex.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Lex sat up, shaking his head. All mirth aside, he didn't think Clark had anything to worry about. Permanently mated to him or not, Clark was probably perfectly capable of being attracted to humans. Yes, he was an alien, and yes, the strongest attraction he'd ever felt to anyone was to Lex, but that didn't mean anything. There had been Tyler, for example, and, God help him, Whitney. Just because he hadn't been attracted as strongly to them, or to any of the women in his life, didn't mean that he wasn't able to be sexually attracted to anyone else.

Lex wasn't sure if he wanted Clark to be attracted to other people, but Lex wasn't important here. Clark and Clark's fears were.

Lex just had to find the strength and the words to assuage Clark's fears.

He climbed out of bed, ran down the hall and grabbed a few pieces paper. Then he returned to his room. Once settled back in bed, Lex reread Clark's letter carefully.

Composing his thoughts, he began to write.

 _Dear Clark,_

 _First off, no. You are not as bad as Desiree. You wouldn't be even if you were secreting something alien that made people attracted to you. Desiree was deliberately using her power to enslave men, and you aren't enslaving anyone. Normal humans (as opposed to Desiree) use a moderate amount of pheromones to attract people to them; if you have some sort of chemical or hormone, I'm sure it functions in basically the same way. Think about it: you are a very beautiful young man, and yet people aren't in a mad rush to get with you. People are attracted (me, Whitney, and countless others), but not many people make a play for you. That's pretty much standard for people who are shy and not popular during high school. If you were secreting something, there would be a lot more people coming on to you more frequently._

 _You are attractive, Clark. Gorgeous. But you're so ashamed and scared of it, and you shouldn't be. There's nothing wrong with being attractive. Have fun with it, Clark. Flirt with people. Let them flirt with you. You don't need to take it anywhere you don't want it to go, but don't get tied up in knots about whether or not you're forcing people to do or feel anything. You're not._

 _I think that Desiree chose you because you are my best friend. It would be easier to explain why my best friend killed me than a random stranger. She was probably going to make it seem like you and I were both in love with her, and you killed me over that. It would have been quite tragic, if you think about it. You are my closest and, truthfully, only friend in this town. You fell in love with my wife, we fought, and you killed me. It would have made a good movie. I would have wanted Colin Ferrell to play me._

Lex stopped and read the end of Clark's letter carefully. How to deal with the issue of attraction if Clark was doubting his ability? It wasn't like Lex could tell Clark how he felt and responded to other people. If Clark didn't feel like he was sexually attracted to people, maybe he wasn't.

It was just ... well, Lex was pretty sure he was. But how to say that without sounding as if he were dictating what Clark did and didn't feel?

He sighed and began writing again.

 _Attraction itself is a funny thing. Sometimes, you're attracted sexually to someone right away. The moment you see them, your body just knows. You tingle and flush and feel aroused. Your brain concocts fantasies of the two of you together. You want them, plain and simple._

 _And, sometimes, it takes a while to get to that stage. My first year in college, when I was sixteen, another freshman, Daniel, had a huge crush on me. I thought he was good looking, but I didn't particularly want him. I kept turning him down for dates, but we hung around the same spots on campus and frequented the same clubs. Still, there was no spark. And then one day in philosophy class, he gave this awesome speech about free will that blew me away. Everything changed. I'd never been as attracted to him before as I was at that moment._

 _Why did I tell you that? Well, I'm trying to give you an example. Basically, there are people you're attracted to right away, people you grow to be attracted to, and people that you think are nice looking, but aren't particularly drawn to in a sexual way. You know they're good looking, you can appreciate their looks, but you don't want them._

 _What I'm trying to say, Clark, is that I don't think the reason you're not sexually attracted to a wide variety of people has anything to do with you being an alien. I'm not discounting the possibility, but I think that it has more to do with you not being ready. You were drawn to me because of our bond. Also, the time was right for us when we met. We were the right age to start a relationship. Had we met a few years ago, we would be friends, but we probably wouldn't be lovers--at least not for a few more years. I think that had you been any younger when we'd met, I would have been able to wait until you were at least eighteen simply because you wouldn't have thought of me in sexual terms. (Although, I doubt I would have thought of you in sexual terms until after you'd hit puberty; I'm not a pedophile.)_

 _You were sexually attracted to Tyler. Check your journal if you don't remember, but I'm pretty sure your attraction to him was primarily based on how much you wanted to jump him, and not because you thought you were supposed to be attracted to him._

 _As for Lana ... I don't know what to say about your feelings for her. It's hard to think of her sexually because she's so young. She projects an insecurity about sex and that might affect the way you think about her. I'm curious, though, if your feelings for her aren't sexual, what triggered your heat vision the night at the Talon? Surely you weren't fantasizing about me while you were talking to her, were you?_

 _And let me take this moment to reiterate: you, Lana, and me? Never going to happen._

Lex hesitated a moment and then took a deep breath.

 _Please don't freak out when you read this. It's only a suggestion, one that you can ignore or take or whatever and I won't say anything. If this worries you and you want to see if you are attracted to other people--male or female--why don't you date other people? We're not, in the most technical sense, together. We're not exactly broken up, but we're taking a break from 'us.' You can use this break however you wish. I'm sure--absolutely positive--there are people at your school who find you attractive and would like to get to know you better. If you don't like that, then there are under-18 clubs--gay, straight and mixed--in Metropolis. They're safe, drug/alcohol free, and non-expensive. They're also a good place to go, blow off steam, and meet people. You and Chloe (and maybe Lana and Pete) could have a lot of fun in a place like that._

 _I'm not going to date anyone else, if you are worried. I'm too busy with work and just not interested. Where relationships are concerned, I know who I am and who I want. But if you need to explore, then you have my blessing._

 _I know this break isn't easy for you. It's not for me, either. I miss you terribly and feel empty, but I really think that we'll both come out stronger people in the end. I'm proud of you for thinking about this; I think that you might be doing a better job than I am. The first week after I left for Metropolis, I was so lonely, I threw myself into work and hardly got any sleep. In fact, when Desiree came to me, I was half-asleep in the hotel restaurant, downing coffee and trying to pep myself up for the next meeting._

 _Even now I'm not doing so hot. Mabel wakes me up every morning, even though I'm perfectly capable of setting my alarm clock. I still have to have someone remind me to take a lunch break, and even then I usually work through it. I know I need a break; I know I should be taking better care of myself, and yet I can't seem to do it._

 _I hope some of what I said helps you. I'm glad that you're trying to work things out. Things are very confusing, I know, but the more you think about them and search for answers, hopefully the clearer things will become. Please write me again if you want._

 _Love always,_

 _Lex._

Lex read over the letter carefully and nodded. It was pretty much what he wanted to say, so he climbed out of bed and pulled his personal stationery from the bottom drawer of his dresser. His mother had helped him pick out the stationery before she'd died. Lex could remember sitting next to her on his bed, pouring through catalogues.

"You can tell a lot about a man by his personal stationery. I want you to have something strong and beautiful, just like you," she'd said.

Lex had wrinkled his nose and run his hand down the page. "It's just paper, Mom."

She'd put her arms around him and held him tightly. "Lex," she'd said, kissing him on the cheek. "It is just paper. But this is the paper that you're going to use to write your friends when you graduate from college. The paper you will write love letters on. The paper that you'll use to write your friends when you find the woman you want to marry and when you have your first child. When people find the envelope in the mail, they'll be able to sense you right away, and when they read what you've written, they'll hear your voice and see you. This isn't just paper, my love; it's stationery, and you want it to be special."

He'd been unconvinced for an entire year. Actually, for years after that conversation. And yet, Lex always bought the same style that they'd picked out together, out of loyalty and a sense of ownership.

His favorite pen was in the box with the paper. He took both to the bed and climbed back on.

"Lex?" Mabel's voice suddenly came through on the intercom.

Lex hit the call button. "Yes, Mabel?"

Her voice was tight and a little panicked. "Metropolis General is on the line for you, sir. Dr. Sutton is in the hospital. She's been hurt."

"Shit," Lex swore softly. "Call the office; tell them to prep the helicopter. We'll leave in a half-an-hour." Then he picked up the phone. "This is Lex Luthor."

"Mr. Luthor, this is Dr. Reynolds at Metropolis General. We've admitted a Dr. Aimee Sutton, and she told us to contact you."

Lex nodded. "What happened?"

"She's been injured, but not badly. The worst injuries are a wrenched back and broken wrist, although she is going to need to stay off her feet a few days as well. She was attacked at Camdus Labs, but she's refused to give the police a name or press charges. We want to hold her a few more hours for observation, but she'll need someone to take her home."

Lex nodded and rose. "All right, Doctor. I'll be there in an hour or two."

"Very good, Mr. Luthor."

When they hung up, Lex swore softly and rushed to take a shower and get dressed. He needed to get to Metropolis, call Damien, and make sure Gabe could run the plant without him, and not in that order. The day was suddenly looking much busier, which meant personal matters would have to wait.

With a sigh, he placed Clark's letter and his own reply into the top drawer of his nightstand. He'd get to it soon.

________________________________________

Lana was doodling idly in her notebook, not really paying attention to class. She was tired. Really tired. Dean had spent the night again last night. Lana longed for the days when Nell had all her affairs out of town. She used to pack Lana's overnight bag and send her to the Fordman's. Then Nell would go out for the week-end and always come back looking happy.

It took Lana a long time to figure out where Nell had gone and what she was doing. In those days, she'd lived in blissful ignorance. Oh, sure, she'd met plenty of Nell's boyfriends before. They'd all been well-built, very handsome, very bland men. They'd tousled Lana's hair and bought her dolls. Sometimes they'd all go on trips to Metropolis to see a movie or a play or go to the museum. None of them had ever stuck around for very long except for Lionel. But he was a different story entirely. And none of them had ever, ever spent the night.

Both Nell and Dean made a lot of noise when they had sex. It kept Lana up all night, and she'd tried everything: cotton in her ears, CD player cranked up, pillow over her head.

Her eyes slid to Chloe, who was a few seats up, diligently taking notes. She wondered if Chloe made a lot of noise when she had sex. Heck, Lana wondered if she'd made noise, and if Chloe had been as embarrassed for her as Lana was for Nell.

Or, maybe Lana was just embarrassed listening to Nell. Maybe when you were having sex, it didn't matter.

Lana sighed and drew a heart in her notes. She really wished she could remember the night she and Chloe had sex. It probably had been wonderful; everything with Chloe had been. If only...

But, Chloe had moved on. And rightly so. Only an idiot held on when they were being pushed away as hard as Lana had pushed. And now Chloe had a beautiful, perfect, strong girlfriend.

And Lana was alone.

Her eyes slid to Clark and she felt her cheeks warm.

Clark was bent over his notes, scribbling away. As usual, he was doing his best not to call too much attention to himself, but it was impossible. He'd already proven that not only had he read the assignment, but done a lot of thinking about it. Mr. Townsend, their teacher, had called on Clark early in the class period, and Clark's answer had been ... well, impressive. Lana couldn't remember exactly what he'd said, but it'd been enough for Mr. Townsend to raise his eyebrows and say that Clark was, "Thinking like a college student. Very good."

He'd been calling on Clark the entire class period. Clark's cheeks were permanently flushed and Chloe looked totally jealous that Clark was 'winning' their competition of brains. While she and Clark had been competing in their grades since Chloe had moved to town, it wasn't usually actually in class. Chloe and a few other students talked all the time, and the rest--including Clark--had to be coaxed along. But this year Clark was getting better about participation; Lana wasn't sure if it was because Clark was more confident, or because Mr. Townsend wouldn't let him get away with giving short answers.

Clark was smart and nice and really cute. And ... he made Lana feel safe.

She sighed and drew a heart with a question mark inside it.

Somewhere along the line, Lana had developed feelings for Clark. She didn't know when; they'd sort of crept up on her. And it was such a stupid thing to let happen. Yes, he was broken up with Lex, but he was still in love with him. There wasn't any room for Lana.

Frowning, Lana stuck the end of her pen in her mouth and sucked on it gently.

Recently, whenever she thought about Clark or Chloe, she felt all warm and tingly. For the first time in her life, she thought about touching herself, imagining what it would be like to be with them. She'd never, as far back as she could remember, masturbated before. She knew that there wasn't anything wrong with it; when Nell had talked to her about sex, she'd told Lana all about masturbating and how it was natural and a healthy expression of her sexuality.

And all Lana could think was, "You want me to put my fingers where?"

Now, however, it didn't seem like such an unappealing idea.

Tingling, she shifted in her chair. She probably shouldn't be thinking about this right now.

The problem was, there was nowhere she could. She couldn't think about sex or masturbation or anything with Dean in the house. The way he looked at her, the way he was always touching her, or telling her how pretty she looked ... it made her feel really uncomfortable.

Probably because she was an ice queen, just like Lex said.

"Lana?" Chloe's voice broke through her unhappy reverie.

She blinked and looked up. "What?"

Chloe smiled, her nose wrinkling slightly. "Class is over, dream cadet; we're going to lunch."

"Oh. Oh, right." She quickly gathered her stuff. "Did I miss anything important? I kind of stopped paying attention half-way through."

Chloe nudged Lana with her shoulder. "Don't worry. Clark and I can fill you in during lunch. You okay?"

"Yeah." Lana managed a smile and fell in step next to Chloe. "I'm fine. Just... just a little tired."

"Really? Maybe you should try this tea Dad bought me because I couldn't sleep. It ..." And Chloe was off.

Lana exchanged a smile with Clark as the three of them headed off to the cafeteria. Maybe her life outside of school was shifting radically, but it was nice to know that some things never, ever changed.

________________________________________

Lex paced by the window restlessly, wearing a rut in Dominic's carpet as he watched Dr. Sutton lift her teacup to her mouth with an unsteady hand. He hadn't stopped moving since he'd gotten to Metropolis almost three hours before. When he'd arrived at the hospital, Dr. Sutton had been having her wrist set, so Lex took the opportunity to talk to Dr. Reynolds once more and get the full extent of her injuries.

Her back was bruised and pulled. Apparently, she'd been pushed into the corner of a counter, causing a deep contusion. She'd hit her face somehow which left a welt across her cheek. She'd bitten her tongue. She'd fallen on her hip which wasn't broken, but she shouldn't walk for the next few days. Her wrist was fractured from trying to catch herself and her shoulder was bruised from slamming into the floor when her wrist had given out.

"She won't say who attacked her," Dr. Reynolds had told him. "In fact, she insists she fell. The lab assistant who called the ambulance told us Dr. Sutton was attacked by a Dr. Steven Hamilton. The woman also said that he threatened everyone in the lab. However, Dr. Sutton won't confirm the allegations." He inclined his head. "Perhaps you or her nephew will discuss the situation with her?"

Lex had nodded. "Of course, doctor."

Damien and Dominic had arrived soon after Lex. An hour or two later, Dr. Sutton had been released and they'd gone back to Dominic's.

Lex hadn't been able to settle down, even on both Damien's and Dr. Sutton's orders. They'd asked him, calmly, in that soothing voice that they shared. But he couldn't; his insides were tied in knots, a headache pressed behind his forehead, and he felt as if he'd just drunk ten espressos.

When Damien had been hurt, Lex was able to write off his worry easily. He depended on Damien. He was comfortable with Damien's company. They'd been together for almost two years, and Lex really didn't want to contemplate the future without him. It hadn't been personal. Lex hadn't actually cared much beyond the concern any human being felt for another. It was business.

He'd known he was full of shit then. It was totally personal. Damien was more family to him than Lionel was sometimes. But it would have cost Lex too much to admit it then, so he'd kept his mind focused on his business relationship with Damien as an excuse for worry, ignoring anything else.

There was no excuse for the anger and frustration he was feeling right now. Even if part of it was because he was losing his researcher and that another fucking experiment had gotten away from Lex's control again, this ... this sick feeling of helplessness couldn't be explained away by any of that.

She was just a doctor. Just his doctor. If it'd been Dr. Pierce, Lex would be out celebrating right now. But it was different with her. Lex liked her.

She was family.

Fuck. When had he allowed himself to get so close to people? It was all Clark's fault.

Dr. Sutton sighed and put her teacup down. "Lex, please sit down. You're making me tense, and I really don't need that right now."

Lex frowned. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." She raised an amused eyebrow. "But I'm getting tired watching you."

He exhaled slowly and crossed the room. "Sorry." He sat down in the chair a bit harder than he'd intended to and began drumming his fingers on his knee.

As if on cue, Dominic leapt to his feet. "Can I get you anything, Lex?"

"I'm fine."

"Really, it's no problem, Lex, I ..."

Lex opened his mouth to say something sharp when Damien calmly reached up and took Dominic by the belt.

"He's fine. Sit."

Dominic looked down, frowning. "But ..."

Damien raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. "Dominic."

Face pink, Dominic sat back down. He was stiff and radiating discomfort; he was obviously itching for an outlet for his tension. For a moment, Lex thought about giving him something to do, like getting Lex a drink. But he really didn't want one, so Dominic was just going to have to sit and be on edge like everyone else was.

Clearing his throat, Lex leaned forward. "So, uh... can you tell us what happened?" he asked. They'd heard the dry run from her doctor, but as far as Lex knew, Dr. Sutton hadn't gone through the story herself. He supposed there were more relaxing questions to ask her, but this was the one they needed to hear at the moment.

She seemed to have been expecting the questions, because instead of getting upset, she became calmer. Her hands stopped trembling and she sat up straighter.

"Of course, Lex," she answered calmly. She ran her finger tips over her forehead. "I arrived at Camdus Labs around nine, which is when I'm usually in. I was getting coffee from the lounge when I heard some yelling. I went to see what was happening and Amanda--one of the lab techs--ran out of a lab, white-faced and shaking. When I asked what was wrong, she told me Dr. Hamilton had gone crazy. She wouldn't say any more than that, so I told her to go into the lounge and I would talk to him.

"When I got there, he was shaking out of control. The other lab techs were standing uncertainly at the door, staring at him. Steven looked as if he were having a fit, so I went to him and was to attempt to lower him to the floor. But he turned and started yelling at me, telling me to stay away."

"Did you get any closer?" Mabel asked.

She shook her head. "No. I waited until the fit had passed and then tried talking to him. He was... unreasonable. He told me that his lab technicians were all idiots and that he wanted to do his research alone. I told him that was all well and good, but I wanted to make sure he was all right and he should come to my office. That was when I approached him. And he ..." She swallowed. "I'm not entirely sure what happened. I know he called me a conniving bitch who was out to steal his research and glory. He grabbed me and asked how much Lex was paying me to sabotage him. I insisted I was nothing more than a medical doctor who was concerned about his health. He told me there was no cure and he didn't want my help. Then he told me to get the fuck out and tell my master he needed more money for competent assistants. And that's when he threw me."

When she was finished, she picked up her teacup again. The cast on her wrist was light and delicate, which made it easy for her to keep hold of it. Her face was still composed in calm lines, only now she was very pale and her entire body trembled.

Mabel moved closer to her on the couch and placed a hand on her thigh. "Did he leave you then?"

"Yes. One of the technicians shouted down to Amanda to call the police. Then he came to help me. Steven realized he was in trouble and left. He injured a few people trying to get out, but there was communication confusion, so he left the back way while security came from the front."

Damien sighed and looked at Lex. His knuckles were white as he clutched the arm of his wheelchair, but his eyes were steady and calm.

"Should we send the police after him?" Lex asked Damien softly.

"They are, most likely, looking for him right now. The technicians would have made statements."

"I'm sorry, Lex," Dr. Sutton said. "I didn't mean to make any trouble."

Lex shook his head and managed what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "It's not your fault, doctor. I'm sorry this happened. Everything went to hell, and I thought ..." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I've seen what this stuff does to people, but I'd hoped that Dr. Hamilton would be okay. I was foolish and this is my fault. But he was so anxious to get back to work after the accident." He rose again. "Do you want to press charges?" he asked, dropping his hand.

Dr. Sutton shook her head. "Steven is sick. He's not a criminal. I don't want to treat him," she added with a small smile, "but I do want to see him receive help."

"Okay. I'll see what I can do." He turned to Damien.

Damien nodded. "We can use Dominic's office. Aimee, do you need to lie down?"

Dr. Sutton nodded gratefully. She really did look exhausted.

Immediately, Dominic rose and went to her. "Let me show you the guest room." He helped her to her feet.

"Aimee, I'm going to run to your place to pick up some things for you," Mabel said, rising as well.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. It's no problem. I'll be back in a few hours." She gave Dr. Sutton a quick hug and then left.

Damien and Lex went into the office, shutting the door behind them. Lex immediately booted up the computer, even though he wasn't sure they would be needing it. He just needed to do something.

"The problem, of course, is we don't know what type of damage the meteor rocks do," Damien said, watching Lex. "I would like to call in a specialist, but what type?"

"I don't know." Lex rubbed his eyes. "I was hoping that Dr. Hamilton would be able to isolate exactly what part of the body the meteor rocks affected, but he hasn't. Well," he amended, "he hadn't gotten to that point yet. He was still trying to determine the basic structure."

"Do you have access to his files?"

Lex shot his assistant a look and rose from the desk. "Of course. I haven't been looking at them lately, though; I've been busy with Lex Corp." He went to the window and opened it.

Damien nodded. "Well, we can start there. Perhaps he's found something that will help us find what we need. Can we retrieve the files from there?"

"Some of them. Dr. Hamilton sent some to me recently; they're in the account we set up." Damien knew the account, so Lex turned to the window while Damien retrieved the information.

"All right," Damien said after a few minutes. "It's downloading now." There was a short silence. "Tell me what's troubling you."

Lex sighed. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

His shoulders stiffened and his headache pounded behind his eyes. "Nothing." Lex pushed away from the window and walked back to the desk. Drumming his fingers on the polished wood, he said, "It's just ... she's ... I like her." It was a painful admission, and Lex said it softly, almost hoping that Damien wouldn't hear him.

"I see," Damien said after a moment.

"Yeah." Lex smiled ruefully. "She didn't deserve this. I mean ... fuck." Lex pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead. "She always asks how I'm feeling like she really cares and isn't just taking notes on me. She's calm and doesn't let me get away with shit. She made friends with my cook, and is this presence in my life even when she's not there. And it's not... it's not annoying like it should be. If Dr. Pierce or any other doctor had ever tried to do this, I would have fucking killed them. But she's ... different. It's ..." Lex shook his head helplessly. "She didn't deserve this."

Damien shook his head. "No, but it wasn't your fault."

Lex snorted. "How isn't it? I'm the one who funded Dr. Hamilton's study. I'm the one who set both him and Dr. Sutton up in Camdus Labs. I'm the one... I'm the one who can't let this meteor research go. If it wasn't for me ..."

"If it wasn't for you, Dr. Hamilton would still be doing his study out of his barn. We would have no control of his research and, therefore, would be handicapped if anything he found could be linked to Clark."

It was true. But that didn't make Lex feel any better. He pulled away from the desk and began pacing.

"Dr. Hamilton knew the risks," Damien continued. "He's interviewed and examined every person who has been affected by the meteors. He's seen the effects first hand, and yet he failed to take proper precautions. The accident was his error, not yours. He made the mistake that caused the exposure; he admitted it when he was in the hospital. He's the one who attacked Dr. Sutton. It wasn't your fault."

"I know. I get that. It wasn't my fault. There are things that are out of my control. But I don't ..." Lex bit off his words and shook his head. "I don't want to be my father."

There was a long pause. Damien backed away from the desk and rolled into Lex's path, blocking him. "You aren't. He wouldn't be here right now."

Lex laughed and shook his head. "No. He wouldn't be. He would have sent Dominic."

Damien smiled. "Yes."

Feeling awkward, Lex ran his hand over his skull. "Uh ... you know when ... when it was you. When I didn't know if you were alive. It wasn't just because you're my assistant." Lex ran his hand over his skull again, feeling stupid. What the fuck did it even matter why he'd been worried? It was over now. Months over.

"I know, Lex," Damien replied softly. "And I knew then, as well."

Lex cleared his throat and nodded. Embarrassed and feeling awkward, he started to pull away, but Damien touched his back very lightly.

"How are things in Smallville?"

He closed his eyes and sighed. "Miserable. Both of us, totally miserable." He sighed again. "Clark and I ... are kind of adrift right now. I didn't think he was doing anything, but he wrote me a letter after Desiree ... He's thinking, I guess. But he's not sharing much."

"Do you blame him?" Damien's voice was dry.

"No. First I force him into a separation, then I get married, and now ..." Lex rubbed his eyes. "It's all just so fucked up."

Damien tilted his head. "Is the separation working out the way you wanted it to?"

Lex thought a moment, and then shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know exactly what I expected to happen. But, when Clark and I get together on Sunday, it's nicer. Not ... I miss sleeping with him. And I miss the intimacy we had, especially when he'd spend the night. Not just sex. I mean, I miss sex, but ... it was more. A lot more, and I miss that. I didn't expect it to be this painful, somehow." He laughed softly and rubbed his chin. "But I still think it's necessary. The best thing for us."

"I trust that you don't expect this to be a permanent arrangement," Damien said. "How will you know when to resume your relationship?"

"Fuck if I know," Lex snorted. "Divine intervention?"

Damien's lips curled. "Ah, then, not too long."

Lex smiled back. "It's nice being able to spend time with him and not have our time be filled with drama and fighting. At the same time, there's so much on his mind. I can see how heavily his origins weigh on him. He needs to work through this without me taking him step by step, and I'm not sure how to do that."

"Perhaps you should start by making him feel safe."

Lex frowned at his assistant, confused.

Damien gazed up at him, eyes dark and calm. "Everything about being an alien is frightening enough to him. And now his ship is missing; you've pointed out to him what might happen. Have you told him that you're taking measures to make sure that he is safe and protected?"

"Uh ... no." Lex rubbed his forehead. "I didn't think to."

"Tell him. It might help ease his mind."

After a moment, Lex nodded. "You're right. I should tell him. No one should have to live with something like than hanging over his head." Mentally berating himself, Lex shook his head. "Speaking of which ..."

"There are three keys to three separate safe deposit boxes in my room. I'll get them before you leave."

Lex nodded. "Thank you. You really are a godsend."

Eyes glinting with amusement, Damien nodded. "Of course, sir. Now, shall we set about finding Dr. Hamilton a doctor?" He glanced at the computer.

"Let's get to it."

________________________________________

Clark sighed and set his pen down. Scanning the essay he'd just finished, he nodded and put it in his folder. It was good enough for a first draft, he was sure. And that was all he needed, anyway; his teacher was having them turn in their first essays of the year in multiple drafts so he could teach them how to write a college level essay. Most of the people in Clark's class were on the honors/AP track, and Mr. Townsend felt it was his duty to take them through step by step so when they got to their tests, they'd have a good idea of what they were doing.

He packed up his belongings in his backpack and grabbed his novel. Mr. Townsend had also passed out a long list of novels that he felt every college educated person should read. He wanted them to read at least two each semester in addition to their class work. Clark had read five so far, and was on his sixth.

Reading helped keep his mind focused. It helped keep the nightmares at bay and, more importantly, helped soothe the terrible feelings of loss Clark walked around with. He'd always enjoyed reading, but now it was practically a necessity.

Clark had just settled into his hammock and opened his book when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He tensed, knowing who belonged to the feet, unsure of what to do.

"Hey," Lex said uncertainly when he reached the top. "Mind if I come in?"

"Sure." Clark climbed out of the hammock even as Lex waved him back in. But he just shook his head and went to the couch.

Lex joined him, sitting awkwardly. "So. How are you?"

Clark shrugged. "Okay, I guess. You?"

"All right. I've a little headache, but it's been a long day." He licked his lips.

"Did something happen?"

Lex's eyes were focused on his hands. He seemed to be avoiding Clark's gaze. "Dr. Sutton was hurt today. I was in Metropolis making sure she was all right."

Clark blinked and frowned. "Is she?"

"Yes. She's a little shaken, but she's fine. She just needs a few days to recover."

"What happened?"

He tensed. "She was attacked. By Dr. Hamilton."

Clark swallowed hard. "Uh ... are you sure she's okay?"

Lex nodded. "He didn't exactly go after her. You know how he was in that accident earlier this month? Well, he'd melted down a bunch of meteor rocks and was heating the liquid. The damn stuff exploded and he was coated in it. It's gotten under his skin, like Earl Jenkins. I knew he was more irritable, but I didn't realize he was this bad. Basically, he was having a fit when Dr. Sutton came in; he grabbed and threw her. It was the fall that injured her."

"Man," Clark whispered. He leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. "It's like it never ends, you know? One disaster involving meteor rocks after another. One ruined life after another."

"Dr. Sutton's life is hardly ruined, Clark."

He cracked opened his eyes. "But Dr. Hamilton's might be."

Lex bit his lip.

Closing his eyes again, Clark shook his head. "Tell her I'm glad she's okay, will you? And tell Dr. Hamilton..."

"I'm not going to tell him you're sorry," Lex said, as if sensing what Clark was going to say. "And his life might not be ruined; I'm going to send him to a doctor who might be able to do something about his condition. He's done brilliant work in cell mutation before; with Dr. Hamilton's findings, he might be able to find a way to stabilize all the mutant's conditions."

"Really?" A glimmer of hope shone, and Clark opened his eyes.

Lex shrugged. "Someone's got to someday. And I'm going to hope it's sooner, rather than later." He touched Clark's knee. "Don't let it worry you too much. We're working on it."

"I'll try not to." It was still going to worry him, of course, but knowing that someone was working on a cure made him feel a lot better.

"I got your letter," Lex said after a moment.

Clark tensed; he hadn't expected Lex to say anything, somehow, at least not right now. He'd almost forgotten about the letter in his concern and guilt over Dr. Sutton and Hamilton, which was funny since it'd pretty much been all Clark had been able to think about all day.

Lex was looking at him, obviously expecting an answer.

Drawing in a deep and somewhat settling breath, Clark said, "Oh?"

"Mabel gave it to me." He hesitated. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Clark thought about it a moment, and then shook his head. "I'm not ready to... talk yet."

A look of disappointment flashed over Lex's face, and the space in Clark where he felt Lex's emotions burned brightly with irritation.

Alarmed, Clark pressed his hand against his stomach. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I ..."

"You're angry at me," Clark said, cutting him off. He stood up rapidly and back away. "Why? I'm thinking about it. I wrote it down."

"Clark ..."

"I'm sharing it with you," he continued insistently. "I'm trying to get it out in the open. Yeah, I know you want me to figure this out on my own, but it's not the same if I don't share it. It's like it's trapped in my mind and not real. You know that, Lex, I've told you and..."

"Clark, calm down!" Lex rose and grabbed Clark by the shoulders, shaking him gently. "Deep breath."

Tense and edgy, Clark complied, inhaling deeply.

Lex nodded and smiled what Clark thought might be a reassuring smile. But it didn't ^feel^ reassuring, even with Lex said, "I'm not angry."

The almost hysterical laugher escaped Clark before he could stop it. Shaking his head, he replied, "Yes, you are."

Lex frowned. "How ..."

"I can feel you, Lex. Remember? All the fucking time, I can feel you. Right here." He pressed his hand harder into his stomach. "You're right here, all the time. Every emotion. Every good mood or bad mood or... or irritation or joy or whatever. It's here and I feel it. God." He laughed again, running a hand over his eyes. "You can't hide it from me."

"Ah, shit," Lex breathed, understanding dawning in his eyes.

Frustration flared across the bond, making Clark frown, but he said nothing.

Lex sighed and shook his head. "I totally forgot about that, Clark. I'm sorry." He put his hand over Clark's, smile rueful.

Clark shifted uncomfortably. "It's not your fault. I'm the one who did it."

"You..."

"I'm the one that wormed my way into the net thing. The jewels. I just wanted to get closer to you and I wasn't thinking. I did this to myself." Tears rose, but he tried to fight them back, even though his chin trembled slightly.

"Clark, we both do things without thinking. When we're together, we're always kind of... driven to be closer. I don't know if it's because of the bond, or ... or maybe everyone has the same urge. We're just able to get closer because of the bond." Lex raised an eyebrow. "Is it really that bad?"

Clark sniffed. "What do you mean?"

"Feeling me all the time: is it bad? Am I distracting you?" His fingers closed over Clark's hand so he was holding it.

"Not normally," he said, shaking his head. "Usually I can ignore it. I mean, you're always there, but ... you're here." He pressed their hands into his stomach. "Unless we're close, I only feel it if I pay attention. Sometimes, though, you get really angry or something and it kind of flares. And when we're close, it's a lot stronger; more immediate. I guess ... I guess I'm just more tuned in or something." He licked his lips, feeling tears rise again. "Why are you angry?"

"I'm not."

"Lex ..."

"Clark," Lex cut him off, annoyed now. "I'm not angry at you. I'm not. I'm... you know me, Clark. I like to talk things through. Out loud. It's the way I am, the way I was raised. Dad taught me from day one that if there's a problem, you talk about it until it works out your way." He quirked his lips. "Rules of war and all that. You're a little different. Yes, your family talks about things, but only immediate concerns. Like us dating, or your grades, or money. Big issues get hidden, which is one of the reasons I think you're having a hard time dealing with being an alien. You're parents certainly aren't encouraging you to think about it; hell, they hid it from you for 12 years."

"So you don't think my family deals with things the right way?"

Lex shook his head. "I didn't say that. And I didn't mean to imply it. I just find it frustrating not being able to do this my way."

Clark swiped at his nose. "Your way hasn't worked. We just end up fighting."

He nodded, a self-deprecating smile on his face. "You're right. And I know you're right. Which is why, as frustrating as I find writing letters, I wasn't going to say anything. Because this is what you need to feel comfortable, and I'm not going to try to change it."

Clark frowned, still not convinced.

Sighing, Lex reached into his back pocket. "Look, I knew that you wouldn't want to talk. So I wrote you a letter back. Yes, part of me hoped I could come over and you'd just start spilling whatever's going on inside your head, but I knew it wouldn't happen. I'm willing to do whatever you need, Clark." He held out an envelope.

"But you're still--or you were unhappy."

"Yes. And there are going to be times in the future I'm going to be unhappy with something you do or say, but I'll want to let it slide. I won't want to tell you. Everyone does it."

"But I usually don't have to hear it. Well, feel it."

Lex squeezed his hand. "No. You don't. But it's an ingrained response, trying to make nice to spare feelings. So what are we going to do?"

"I don't know." Clark chewed on his lower lip. "Maybe ... maybe you should acknowledge what you're feeling or thinking. Like, tell me that you find it frustrating, but you're willing to give it a chance. Because ... because all I feel is your emotions; I don't know the thoughts behind them without being able to read your mind. So, when you get angry or frustrated, I think that those feelings are directed at me."

"Okay. I think I can do that. It'll take me awhile. So what you need to do is call me on it. Tell me that you sense I'm angry or whatever, and you need to know why. Don't panic right away and make assumptions."

Clark sniffed again and nodded. "Okay. I can do that."

Lex smiled. "We'll make this work. I promise."

"Okay." He squeezed Lex's hand and then pulled away to sit on the couch. "I'll read the letter tonight."

"Good. You don't have to respond, but ... I'd like it if you did." Lex sank on the couch next to him.

Clark nodded and ran his fingers over the embossed signature on the envelope. "I'll see." He licked his lips. "Uh ... is this why you're here? I mean, uh, are you leaving soon? No, wait. I mean ..." Wincing, he trailed off. He hadn't meant the question to come out quite so blunt. But, at the same time, he was a little resentful that Lex had come. He'd made it clear that they weren't supposed to go seeking each other out. Clark had been good about that. Well, he'd been pissed and resentful and refused to give Lex the satisfaction, but he hadn't gone to see Lex. So why was Lex here?

As if sensing what was going through Clark's head, Lex smiled and reached into his pocket. "I know I'm not supposed to be here, but there's something I need to tell you. It's important, and it couldn't wait until Sunday." He produced a small key and held it out to Clark. "After I found out the ship was missing, I called Damien. There has always been the danger of someone finding out about you, but it took the realization that the ship was gone to really bring that home to me. So, Damien and I began making up plans to get you out of Smallville and, if necessary, out of the country should anyone find out about you. This is the key to a safe deposit box at Gotham Federal Bank. If you are ever in danger and I'm not around, you go to Gotham and get into the box. There is money, passports, and instructions for you. Don't worry about your parents; I'll take care of them. But you need to leave, get the box, and follow the instructions. With any luck, you can get safely out of the country and somewhere you can hide until I come for you." Lex licked his lips. "There are other plans. Two other boxes, and Damien is putting together a couple more. I'd try my best to find you right away, or go with you, but I might not always be able to. You need to promise me to leave without looking back if something were to happen."

Frowning, Clark took the key. "Lex ..."

"Promise me," Lex said insistently, taking Clark's hand.

Clark was being hit by a barrage of strong emotions rushing from Lex. He was intense and scared and serious.

He licked his lower lips and nodded. "I promise, Lex."

Lex physically relaxed, sighing softly. "Thank you." He sighed again and released Clark's hand. "I promised to keep you safe, Clark. This is the only way I know how." The moonlight from the window lit his face and, for a moment, he looked so young and scared it made Clark's heart ache.

"It's a good way. And, you're really going to help my parents?"

"Of course. I would never let anything happen to them."

Clark nodded and closed his hand over the key. "Thank you." He sighed, feeling a lot more settled than he had in awhile

"You're welcome." He hesitated a moment, and then moved into Clark, pressing his lips chastely into Clark's. "Always." Then he cleared his throat and rose. "So, uh. Read the letter."

"I will."

"Good. Uh ... just so you know, because I didn't include it in the letter, Damien would never tell me what you and he talk about, unless he thought it wasn't private. He's ... he's good like that. He respects people's privacy, and while he might tell me that you were upset about something, he wouldn't tell me about what."

"Oh." Clark nodded. "Okay. Thanks for telling me."

Lex nodded and ran his hand over his scalp. "I'm ... I'd better go now. Write me again if you like. And I'll see you on Sunday."

"Yeah, okay," Clark said, disappointed Lex was leaving. "See you then."

"Yeah." Lex hesitated and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Uh ...what are you reading now? You know. So I can be prepared on Sunday."

Clark smiled. "'The Fountainhead.'"

Lex returned the smile. "I've read that book about three times. I did a term paper on it when I was a senior in high school."

"Cool. Do you still have it?"

"Somewhere. I'll bring it on Sunday."

"Okay." Clark bit his lip then stood; he kissed Lex swiftly. "Love you."

Lex's smile was soft as he pulled away. "Good night, Clark."

________________________________________

"A fight is not the end of the world, Clark. It doesn't mean that people are going to leave you. It just means they're angry."

Clark sighed and scrubbed his eyes. He was so fucking stupid. A total idiot, and he knew it. How many times did Lex have to tell him that? How many times did Clark have to be reassured that just because someone jumps into their car, so angry they need to be somewhere--anywhere else-- it didn't mean they would never come back? That fights did not necessarily lead to being abandoned? What was it going to take for him to get that?

It was just that, every time he heard Lex's words in his head, the memory of his birth parents intruded. In the memory, they had been yelling and worried. Clark had lain in his crib, listening to them talk, knowing something was wrong. And when Sheal's face appeared over him, she'd been crying. There'd been yelling and tears and fighting and the next thing Clark remembered was...

Being alone. Waking up alone, in a small, dark space, with no one around to hold or touch him. No one to tell him everything was going to be okay.

No matter how hard he tried, it was hard to truly believe that fighting didn't always lead to being alone. So when Clark had seen Pete jump into his car, ready to leave, Clark had freaked out. Because Pete was a constant. Pete had been there always. Even though they hadn't gone to school together until Clark was in fifth grade, they'd been friends. He could remember when they met; they were both five and at the grocery store with their moms. Their moms had gotten into a long conversation and Pete had just ... started talking to Clark. Showing Clark his toys and asking him if he liked Barney and if he wanted to come over and play Chutes and Ladders sometime.

They'd been friends ever since. And Clark wasn't ready to give him up.

So the secret came out. Clark could hardly remember how he'd started to explain, but one minute he was standing in the road, watching Pete leave, panicked, and the next, it all tumbled out.

"Pete, I'm an alien. The ship is mine. I came to earth in it. It crashed during the shower, and it belongs to me. Because I'm not human."

God, had it been a relief. To say it. To actually hear it out loud and not be scared of the words because he was too scared of losing.

"My parents found me. I'm stronger than people, faster. I can see through things. I'm not human."

He'd told Pete everything. Well, almost everything. He'd shown Pete the storm cellar, told him about the meteor shower, and how his parents had always warned him not to tell anyone about his abilities. He'd told the truth for the first time since finding out. Maybe the first time ever.

And Pete had still left. He'd still been angry and hurt and had left.

"I'm so stupid," Clark whispered, pressing the safe deposit box key into his thumb.

He was. He shouldn't have told Pete. Shouldn't have hoped for understanding. He shouldn't have placed that burden on Pete because, even though Pete was hurt that Clark hadn't shared, Clark knew that this knowledge was a burden. Lex was worried; his parents were worried. Even Clark was worried when he allowed himself to think about it. People had been searching for life in the universe for centuries, and Clark knew that, once they found it, they'd want to strap it on a table and cut it open.

Cut him open.

Clark really hated movies about aliens these days.

He shouldn't have told Pete. Even as it all tumbled out, Clark knew all the reasons it was a bad idea. And yet ... besides not wanting to lose him, he needed someone to know. To hear it. Yes, it made it real, but ... but maybe Clark wanted it to be real. No. Not wanted; that wasn't right. Clark wanted to be human. He wanted not to have to worry about this anymore.

But he needed it to be real. And he had needed it for a long time, now. He just hadn't been able to make himself do it. The impetus hadn't been there and Clark had just taken the easy way out. Well, not easy, exactly, but letting it spill out in the heat of the moment was easier than consciously sitting down and thinking about it.

He needed to tell Lex. For one thing, Clark was a little shaky from his admission and he needed Lex to ground him. Also ... Pete might accidentally tell. Or, if anything happened to Clark, Pete might need to be protected too. Lex needed to know in case he wanted to help Pete.

Clark grabbed his backpack and stuffed the key into his pocket. He was thinking about putting it on a chain and wearing it around his neck. It was stupid, but it made him feel safe, so he always wanted to have it around.

He took off for Lex's and arrived at the kitchen door a moment later. It was unlocked, so he slipped inside and into the empty kitchen. The kitchen smelled like coffee and the familiar smell relaxed him. Everything would be okay; Lex would make everything okay again.

He figured Lex would still be in bed, since, according to the letter, he was eating breakfast in bed these days. So, he was surprised to hear Lex's voice in the dining room. He was even more surprised to hear a voice answering him.

"Stop with your excuses, Lex," Lionel said sharply. "You hired an incompetent cook who is disrespectful and impertinent."

"Mabel," came Lex's soft, warning voice. Then the tone changed to annoyed and a little crisp. "Dad, Mabel is a good chef. I was lucky to get her. You are the one that ruined your eggs. You are the one who put the pepper on them. You ..."

"If she had done her job," Lionel interrupted, "I wouldn't have had to add the seasoning. And now they're inedible. Mrs. Welles, get this food out of this room and make me something at least palatable."

"What do you want?" Mabel said, voice tight.

"There, you see Lex? She doesn't even know how to speak to her employers. You've allowed your staff to become lax. I'm not in the mood for eggs anymore. I feel like German pancakes now."

Lex's sigh was audible. "Mabel?"

"Coming right up."

Clark couldn't move. He felt pinned to his spot in the hall, heart pounding so hard that he was pretty sure it was going to pop out of his chest at any moment.

What was Lionel doing here? Did he know about the ship? Was he here for Clark? For his dad? Why?

"Irritating man," Mabel muttered as she stormed out of the dining room. She was holding a tray with the rejected food on it. "Absolutely insufferable. I ... Clark?"

Mabel's presence broke through Clark's paralysis. "I'm sorry," he choked out. "I've got to go." He turned and ran, just remembering not to super speed away until he was out of sight.

He sped his way through the halls of the school until he was hiding in the ball locker of the gym. Closing the door, Clark slid to the floor, his back pressed against it for protection. His breath was coming in choked gasps, and he was shaking with anger and fear.

Why was Lionel there? Why hadn't Lex told him? And, most importantly, how long was he going to stay?

The first bell rang a half an hour later. By that time, Clark was calm enough to face school. After all, Lionel couldn't walk into the school and take him away. Not blind. And, besides, Clark wouldn't go. He was tired of being scared all the time--scared of Lionel, scared that he'd be found out, and scared of being an alien. He'd already told one person his darkest secret, and he was still alive. The world hadn't ended. The world probably wouldn't end if he stood up to Lionel, either.

Tightening his jaw, Clark hitched his backpack up and went to class. He'd corner Pete during passing period and make his case. He wasn't going to lose his friend. Pete would see reason... eventually.

________________________________________

Lex tapped his fingers on the kitchen counter, feeling antsy. His stomach was queasy from worrying too much about his father's presence. When Martha had offered him cookies and milk, he'd turned it down, which made her worry. When he explained about his father, she'd smiled sympathetically and told Lex that he was always welcome to come over if he needed to unwind.

It was a tempting offer. Lex wondered how long he could hide out at the Kent's before he started feeling too guilty about leaving his father alone. Well, he had his health care assistant. Except, he wasn't a health care assistant, he was a Luthor Corp employee. What if something happened and his father...

Lex shook his head sharply. Lionel was fine. And, if he wasn't, Mabel would call Lex. There was no need to worry.

He sighed and idly flipped through the Jostens ring catalogue that was lying on the counter. He remembered Clark--or had it been Lana and Chloe--telling him about the class rings. It was Chloe and Lana. They'd asked him if he had one and could they see it. In the mood to humor them, Lex had found his college ring and taken it to the Talon the next time he was there. They'd been impressed--it was the most expensive ring they'd sold--and then started talking about their own rings. Lex had tuned them out, but a part of him wondered if Clark was getting one. Or, in a moment of true high school immaturity, he wondered if Clark would want to wear Lex's ring.

Laughing softly at his stupidity, Lex turned the page in the catalog, wondering which ring Clark wanted.

"Hey," Clark said warily as he entered.

Lex looked up. "Hey."

Clark slung his backpack on the kitchen table and went to the refrigerator. "Uh, twice in one week. I knew you were a rebel, Lex, but I never thought you'd break your own rules."

"I think you know why I'm here, Clark." Lex kept his voice soft and comforting. When Mabel had told him how upset Clark had been that morning, it was all Lex could do not to run to the school and pull Clark out of class. Even now, he wanted to leap to his feet and hug Clark tightly, forcing him to spill what was going on in his mind. But he stayed where he was and watched Clark closely.

Clark sighed, shoulders slumping. "Yeah, I know." He pulled out the milk and poured himself a glass. "Why, uh ... why is your dad here?"

"I wish I knew." Lex laughed and rubbed his eyes. "He showed up yesterday afternoon saying that his doctor told him to take a break from physical therapy."

"So he's getting better?"

He nodded. "He's improving, yes, but his doctor thinks it's dangerous for Dad to be away right now. Dad left without telling anyone; Dominic called and warned me about five minutes before Dad showed up. The doctor wants me to get Dad back to Metropolis ASAP, but I couldn't do it."

"Why not?" Clark went to the other side of the counter and leaned against it, looking at Lex.

His lips twitched. "Like Dad would do anything I wanted him to. Besides, I don't want him to leave without me knowing why he came in the first place. I can't help but be suspicious."

Clark snorted. "Is there any wonder?" He scowled down at his milk, body stiff.

Lex reached out and took his hand. "Hey. You okay?"

"No." Clark's face crumpled slightly. "I don't want him here."

"I know. But, if he's not here for some sinister reason, that means that he's come to me for help. For comfort. And I owe him that."

"What?" Clark exclaimed.

Lex winced. He had known Clark wasn't going to accept that easily, which pained Lex even more. "Clark," he said softly. "I almost let him die."

"Oh." Clark's voice was distant and hurt. He pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest. "I see."

"No, you don't. Clark, I know you hate him. You have every right to hate him, but I ... I can't. I just ... He's my father. He's all I have..."

"You have me!" Clark shouted. "If you hadn't gotten rid of me, you'd have me!"

Immediately, he pushed away from the counter and went to Clark. "I still have you. I haven't gotten rid of you; that isn't why we broke up. And...I didn't mean I'm alone, alone. I know I have you. You and I ... we have a future, Clark. You are my future. Dad's my past, but he's the only one of my past that I have left. Mom and Pamela are both dead, and I don't have any other family. Just ... Dad, and I ..." His voice cracked and, horrified at his weakness, he turned away.

Clark's arms folded over Lex's body, and he was pulled close. Clark held Lex tightly, not saying anything, just supporting him.

The horrible knot in Lex's chest eased and he was able to take a deep breath without pain. Resting his head against Clark's body, he said, "I've fought him my entire life. I've feared him, hated him. But he's my father. I know I should ... I should kick him out. Get him away from you, but ... he's broken right now. Not himself. Petulant and angry and ... And I'm responsible for it. I'm the one who broke him."

"You didn't break him. You saved him."

Lex shook his head. "After I almost let him die."

"You were disoriented and confused. There was a storm, and you were influenced by twenty-two years of shit that he's pulled on you. It's okay that you hesitated because, in the end, you did the right thing."

Lex sniffed and nodded. "I know. I know all that, but I still ... and then, after I saved him, I okayed the surgery that made him blind."

"It wasn't your fault. Lionel would have done the exact same thing, and you know it! I don't care what he said to you. It is not your fault that he's blind."

"But I feel like it is."

Lips pressed into his head and the arms tightened around him. "It's not. Lex, it really isn't, and you don't owe him anything."

Lex squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "Clark, he's my father. And I do owe him. I have to let him stay." He covered Clark's hand with his. "I'm sorry."

Clark sighed and kissed Lex's neck. "I ... I guess I understand. I just don't like it." He released Lex and pulled away.

Lex turned. "You don't have to. I wouldn't expect you to." He licked his lips. "Are you going to be okay?"

After a moment, Clark nodded. There was something in his eyes ... something so sad, that Lex wanted to take him into his arms and shield him from his father's presence.

But he couldn't. God, this sucked so much. He couldn't win. Absolutely couldn't win. His father was in pain; he was hurting and all Lex could do was watch him .

And Clark. Lionel had been the instrument of Clark's pain, and yet, as much as Lex loved him, he couldn't sacrifice his father for Clark. He just wasn't strong enough.

Clark called up a ghost of a smile, his hand pressed against his upper stomach. "I'm fine. Really. I won't be hanging out at your place while he's there, but I'm not supposed to anyway, right?"

"Right." Lex smiled wanly back and sat down at the counter. "I, however, might have to drop by here every once in a while to get away from him."

Smiling faintly, Clark sat next to Lex. "Aren't there, like, 75 rooms at the mansion?"

"About that, yes. And, no, it's not enough room." Tentatively, he reached out and took Clark's hand in his.

Clark turned his hand over and threaded their fingers together. He squeezed slightly. "Are you going to be okay?"

Lex thought about it a moment, and then nodded. "So far, he's just being cranky and irritable about everything. Like he's trying to start a fight. I'm refusing to take the bait, so... I'll just have to see what happens." He sighed and shook his head. "I really don't want to think about it right now." He glanced down at the catalog underneath their hands and asked, "Are you planning on getting a ring?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. I want to, but Dad thinks I should save my money. He thinks that a class ring is a total waste of money, in fact, and we sat down and had a long talk."

"What'd he say?"

"That I need to learn responsibility. That I've worked long and hard for that money, and do I really want to waste it on something as frivolous as a ring? And then, after talking and talking about how I shouldn't get it, he finishes it up with, 'Well, son. It's your money and your decision. I can't make it for you." Clark snorted and rolled his eyes. "And it is. The problem is, I have enough, but not enough."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "How does that work?"

"The student body voted the first two weeks of school on the type of ring we were all going to get. The president said we should show class solidarity and all have the same style ring. Okay, that's fine, except the ring everyone chose is three hundred and fifty dollars. I have three seventy-five in my savings account, which, yeah, is enough, but that doesn't leave me much for Christmas presents or anything else." He sighed and shook his head. "I'd like a ring. I'm not, like, in the 'in crowd' or anything, but it's still my school. I still would like something to show I'm part of it. But not enough to wipe out my savings."

"I see." Lex opened the magazine with his free hand, still holding Clark's, unwilling to let go even if he was breaking the rules. "Which ring is it?"

Clark flipped to the right page and pointed. "This one."

It was nothing special; just a normal class ring that looked like every other class ring Lex had ever seen. But, Clark wanted it. It was a way he could be a part of his class and school. More importantly, it was a way Clark could fit in without denying what he really was. Maybe Clark didn't see it that way; maybe all he saw was a ring that everyone else was going to have. But it was part of something Clark legitimately belonged to, alien or not.

Lex traced the ring a moment, and then said, "How about a deal? I'll pay one hundred for it as a gift, and then I'll loan you the rest of the money, interest free."

As expected, Clark shook his head. "I can't."

"Yes, you can. Just don't tell your parents."

Clark frowned. "But ..."

"Look, even if, for some strange reason, we don't get back together, we're still going to be friends. You give me things all the time."

"I do not."

"Clark. You give me a sense of safety. Of being loved. A place to hide, to go and just be. And I know I do the same for you, but I want give this, too. Money isn't everything, but it doesn't have to be nothing. And helping you out with this doesn't mean my feelings for you are less real. Or tainted in any way."

Clark sighed and looked longingly at the picture of the ring. "Dad won't like it."

"You're going to pay me back. Not the hundred, but the rest; we'll put you on a plan and you'll owe me a certain amount each month. It'll actually be a good lesson in managing your money. A real life lesson in paying bills." He squeezed Clark's hand. "Please let me do this for you. Please."

Clark looked torn. He wanted the ring, he wanted to borrow the money, but he didn't want to disobey his parents. That was the downfall of being a "good kid." You followed your parents' wishes because you didn't want to let them down, and Clark knew that his father would see the money as a betrayal. Hopefully, though, Clark could see it for what it really was: a gift from his friend. His lover.

Lex didn't say anything. He wasn't going to push. It was Clark's life and Clark's decision, not his.

After a long moment of agonized decision making and much shifting in his seat, Clark nodded. "Okay," he said, a trifle uncertainly. "I'll do it."

"Are you sure?"

Clark hesitated before nodding. "Yeah. I'm sure."

"When's the money due?"

"The day after tomorrow." Clark turned to the back of the book. "Here's the order form."

Lex scanned it. "I'll give you my credit card. Take it in case they want to see it," he said as he filled out the information.

Clark frowned. "But ..."

"It's okay. I'll call them and tell them you're approved if anyone asks. It'll be fine; just don't lose it." He finished filling out the payment section, then pulled his credit card from his wallet and gave it to Clark.

After a moment, looking like he was expecting his parents to run in and take the card away, Clark took it and put it into his pocket. "Thanks."

"Of course. And don't look so guilty; you aren't doing anything wrong."

"I know. It just feels like it."

"I know. But it is your money, and your decision. Not his."

Clark nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Lex."

"Any time." Lex squeezed Clark's hand and rose. "I should go before I lead you too far astray."

To his relief, Clark managed a smile. "I wouldn't mind, you know. Being led astray. I'm always up for seeing new places."

Lex snorted. "I've noticed," he said dryly. "I'll see you Sunday."

"Okay." Clark was out of his seat in a blur. He grabbed Lex and crushed him against himself, kissing him heatedly. "Call me corrupted," he whispered breathlessly when the broke apart. "And it was all your fault."

Lex gasped for air, flushed. "Yeah, well," he managed, straightening his clothes. "What can I say?"

Clark smiled sweetly. "Thanks for the loan."

"Anytime." With a final smile, Lex unsteadily left the Kents' house.

________________________________________

Dean had been staring at her for forty-five minutes now. He was at the corner table that had the best view of the entire Talon, hands wrapped around his coffee mug, eyes pinned to her. Hot and sharp.

"Just my imagination," Lana muttered to herself as she walked across the Talon to give someone their coffee. She plastered a smile, poured, and then steeled herself to go back.

Dean's tongue licked along his bottom lip before he smiled at her.

Lana forced herself to smile back. He was going to leave soon. She knew he would be going because Nell was making them a romantic dinner.

God, why wasn't he leaving now?

"Lana."

Lana turned and found herself pressed against the counter by Dean's closeness.

"Dean. Can I get you something?"

"Maybe a refill, but in a moment. I saw this the other day and thought you might like it." He pulled a box out of his back pocket.

Lana frowned. "Dean, I ..."

He opened the box. Inside was a charm bracelet. The charms were silver stars and moons interspersed with what looked like amethysts. It was beautiful and expensive-looking.

Heart pounding, Lana managed a smile. "It's beautiful, Dean. But... you really should give it to Nell. Not me." She glanced up at him, then looked away, feeling hot and uncomfortable.

"I give Nell other things, Lana. This is for you." When she didn't say anything, he put his hand on her shoulder. "Lana, I want to be close to you. You and Nell are very important to me, and I want you to feel comfortable around me."

Then maybe you should back off, Lana wanted to say. But she was probably being unreasonable. He just wanted to be friends.

So, she managed a smile and said, "I am comfortable around you. I just can't accept such an expensive gift. Nell would never ..."

"Then it will be our secret. Just until ..." Dean smiled and moved closer, taking the bracelet out of the box.

Panic exploded in her stomach and Lana pulled away. "N-no, D-dean, I ..."

"Excuse me." Lex's mild voice broke through Lana's panic. He walked up to the two of them, looking calm, his lips curling slightly as he looked back and forth between Lana and Dean. "Lana, are you all right?"

Flushed and uncomfortable, Lana shook her head, then nodded. "Uh, I'm f-fine, Lex. I ..."

"You're not feeling well," Dean jumped in. He grabbed her arm. "Let me get you upstairs and ..."

"I'm sorry, but upstairs is reserved for employees," Lex interrupted. He untangled Lana from Dean and put his body between them. "I think it's time for you to go. I'll make sure she's all right."

Dean smiled, obviously confused. "No, you don't understand. I'm dating her aunt."

Lex tilted his head. "Then maybe you should go talk to Nell now instead of distracting her niece. Lana needs to work right now. And you need to be somewhere else."

Lana shivered and hugged herself tightly. She'd heard stories of how dangerous Lex could be, she'd just never really believed them. Lex was... elegant and cold, but not scary.

Well, he never had been. He was now. Terrifying, in fact.

Lana watched as Dean paled slightly. He slipped the box into his back pocket. "I'll see you later, Lana." He didn't sound angry at her, at least, so she managed a smile.

"All right. I'm sorry."

Lex's shoulders stiffened, but he didn't say anything. He watched until Dean was out of the Talon before turning back.

"Do you normally apologize to people who are harassing you?" he asked, voice cold and measured.

"He wasn't harassing me. He ..."

"He was touching you when you obviously didn't want to be touched. He was in your personal space. He was trying to give you an expensive gift and wasn't allowing you to turn it down." Lex tilted his head. "It looked like harassment to me."

Brow furrowed, Lana shook her head. "I'm sure he meant well."

Lex snorted. "I doubt it." Then he shrugged. "Is he staying in your home?"

Lana nodded. "Most of the time he spends the night. He doesn't live in Smallville, really. He commutes on the weekends, sometimes comes over during the week." She licked her lips. "He leaves early when he spends the night."

"Does he bother you there?"

"No. Not really. Just ... he always seems to be watching me."

The look on Lex's face was cynical and knowing. Jaded. Lana really didn't like it.

"Well, my advice is to avoid him tonight. He might be angry that he was interrupted and try to take it out on you. Is he really dating Nell?"

She nodded.

Lex's face twisted. "Damn. I'd really hoped that Nell would have stayed with Dad. All his other mistresses have started to ignore him, which is colossally stupid, since he isn't dead. They're just using him for his money, anyway; I don't get the difference. But Dad never picked his women because of their brains, so I shouldn't be surprised."

"Hey!"

He favored her with a patronizing look. "Nell is different. And always has been. She's smart and cagey, and a good mental match for Dad. Why he's kept her out here all these years, I don't know, but I've never heard that she was discontent." He sighed. "I don't get why she left Dad for that man. What's his name?"

"Dean."

"Dean," Lex repeated. Then he shook his head, visibly dismissing the train of thought. "Can you get me a large coffee and a vanilla latte to go?"

"Uh, yeah, okay." Lana turned to get his order, then stopped. "Thank you," she said, turning back. "For. You know."

Lex's smile was small and tight. He nodded. "No problem. But grow a backbone. Next time he makes you uncomfortable, tell him to back the fuck off."

"Yeah," Lana said dryly as she went back to her work. "I'll do that." Even if it was easier said than done.

________________________________________

There should be something more, Clark thought as he gazed at the barn that contained Dr. Hamilton's body. Some kind of ritual. Something to say. Something more to do than just... wait. Wait for someone else to clean up the mess and take care of the problem.

Something more than two phone calls.

"Dad, I found the ship. Can you come pick it up?"

"Lex, I need help. Dr. Hamilton's dead. At least, I think he's dead; I can't get close enough to tell."

Two calls and then ... waiting. Forever waiting for someone else to take the problem away.

"You okay, man?" Pete asked. He still looked shaky, and there were bruises around his wrists from being bound too tightly, but he insisted he was fine. Dr. Hamilton hadn't actually hurt him or anything, although Clark was going to take him to the hospital to make sure he didn't have a concussion once his dad showed up.

Clark shrugged. "Yeah. The, uh, meteor rocks only hurt when I'm near them. They don't, you know. Linger."

"That's good. I guess you'd be sick all the time if they did, you know? There are so many rocks around in town."

"Yeah."

They fell into an awkward silence. Pete leaned over and picked up a rock, which he tossed from hand to hand.

"So, uh ... do you remember anything? About your planet?"

Clark bit back a sigh. He really didn't want to do this, but at least Pete was trying. The anger had faded and while Clark didn't think Pete really understood why Clark hadn't told him, it was better.

So, instead of telling Pete about his distaste of discussing his situation, he said, "Just bits and pieces. I've got repressed memories, which means anything before I started speaking English is a blank. I mean, there are a few images, but other than that, nothing."

"Why would you repress it? I mean, how cool is it to be from another planet?"

Not very. "Yeah, cool to be sent away from your birth parents. Cool to be sent away from anyone who's like you, and to have to figure out what the hell you are without any help from anyone." Clark's annoyance crept through, but he didn't care. He wanted to cry and scream and burn down the damn barn, getting rid of the last proof ...

Except, Clark was the last proof of alien existence, not the ship. The ship was nothing, not when compared to what people would do if they had him.

Shuddering slightly, Clark pulled the twine around his neck from under his shirt and closed his hand around the key.

"The memories I have are traumatic," he finally said.

Pete nodded, looking sympathetic, but said nothing.

Clark licked his lips. "I remember my birth parents; mostly my mom. They were fighting and... I was scared. She was scared. I think I remember waking up on the way over, and I was alone. Trapped. I ..." Clark broke off and forced himself to take a deep breath. And then another.

"Hey." Pete put his hand on Clark's shoulder and squeezed. "It's cool, Clark. I get it. This is old news to you, so the fun's worn off. The real stuff's hit you now."

"It never was fun," Clark whispered. "And old... I found out after Lex hit me last year. Before that, I just thought I was different. You know? Not ... alien."

Pete's hand tightened. "Lex knows?"

"He figured it out. I can't ... I have problems talking and thinking about it period. I don't like lying, but ... I keep wishing my lies were the truth."

"Ah," Pete said. Then he fell silent.

Clark sighed and shook his head. He wasn't sure if Pete understood what he was trying to say or not. It was easy to apologize for lying and explain why, but it wasn't always easy to understand.

He was still thinking about how to explain it to Pete when Lex pulled up. He stopped his car next to them and climbed out, face blank and distant.

"Hey." Lex folded his sun glasses and slid them into his breast pocket as he came to stand next to Clark. He shot a glance at Pete. "You all right?" Eyes flicking between Pete and Clark, Lex placed once hand lightly on the nape of Clark's neck.

Clark tucked the key back under his shirt and nodded. "Yeah. He's in the barn. And Pete knows."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "He knows?"

Clark looked up at him. "He found the ship."

Lex's emotions flashed from disbelief to confusion to a deep sense of hurt. His face remained fairly blank, but his eyes showed every emotion as he gazed at Clark and his feelings were telegraphed clearly through the bond.

Pete stood and said, "It's cool, man. I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Yes, well." Lex cleared his throat. "See that you don't. Excuse me." He pulled away and went into the barn.

"He doesn't trust me." Pete glared at Lex's retreating form.

Clark shook his head. "No. He's just ... nervous. It's easy to say you won't tell, but it's harder not to."

"I'd be offended, but ... You're not him, and I know you don't feel that way. Right?"

Clark managed a smile and lightly punched Pete on the arm. "I trust you, Pete. You wouldn't say anything."

Pete grinned.

A few minutes later, Lex came back out. "I'm going to need help moving him. Pete, will you be able to give me a hand?"

Looking a little ill, Pete nodded.

"Good. Clark, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Clark allowed Lex to draw him away, noticing how Lex kept a hand on him at all times. "Pete's not gay, Lex," Clark said, not sure how to take this sudden possessiveness. Not that he minded it, but it seemed to come out of the blue.

Lex narrowed his eyes. "I'm a little shaken right now," he said crisply. "You've just come very close to being discovered, and now one more person is in on the secret. Forgive me for needing to make sure you're still here."

Clark cupped Lex's cheek and kissed him sweetly. "I'm still here, Lex."

He relaxed a little, but not much. "Why didn't you tell me Pete found the ship? I might have been able to get it from Hamilton sooner had I known."

"I was going to," Clark admitted, not meeting Lex's eyes. "I went to your place to tell you. But I couldn't with your father there. I ... couldn't."

Over the bond, Lex went icy hurt. It pierced Clark sharply, making his breath catch as Lex froze, an unreadable expression on his face."

Scared, Clark looked at him. "Lex?"

Lex managed to blink, drawing in a painful-sounding breath. "Didn't you trust me?" he whispered.

"I did. I do. But you know how I don't think right when your dad is around. I just kind of... froze. I'm sorry."

"Clark ..."

"I'm sorry," he interrupted insistently. "Really, I am."

Lex exhaled slowly and swayed into Clark. "Okay. I understand. Just... try to keep your head straight, okay, Clark?"

"Okay."

He nodded and touched Clark's cheek gently. "Hamilton is alive, but barely. I've called the specialist he was supposed to see, and am going to have Dr. Hamilton flown from the plant to the hospital. I don't think he's going to survive, though."

"Should you be wasting time with me?"

"I have to." Lex blinked up at Clark. "The first day he came, I bribed Dad's assistant to inform me of everything Dad does. Dad's only left the mansion once since getting here, and that's after Dr. Hamilton came to see me. Hamilton brought him here."

Clark closed his eyes. "No," he whispered.

"Clark. Clark, listen to me." He put his hand on Clark's cheek and slapped him lightly to keep his attention. "Dad called me at the plant right after you called and said he wanted me to take him somewhere. I'm assuming he wants to come here and show me the ship. You need to get it out of here and hide it again. I'll bring Dad in an hour or so and find an empty barn. I'll try to convince him that Hamilton was delusional and was playing with a blind man." He placed his hands on Clark's shoulders and squeezed. "Don't worry about Dad; I'll take care of it."

"Then why tell me?"

Lex smiled faintly. "I'm working on a new honesty thing, Clark. I thought you might want to be in on this."

"You're right. I do. Thanks." Clark heard the sound of a car and turned to see his father's truck coming up to the barn. "Dad's here. You and Pete and Dad need to clear out the meteor rocks, or I'm not going to be able to help with the ship."

"All right." Lex held him a moment, giving him a long, penetrating look. "You're going to be all right, right?"

He thought about it a long moment, and then nodded. "Yeah. I am. I got my ship back." He managed a small smile. "And the world didn't end when I told Pete."

A shadow crossed Lex's face, and Clark's stomach knotted in response to Lex's mood shift. But, instead of saying anything about what he was feeling, Lex managed to smile and say, "Well. Told you it wouldn't."

Mood crushed by Lex's sadness and fear, Clark fell into step beside him. "Yeah," he whispered. "You did."

________________________________________

 _Dear Clark,_

 _What's wrong and don't lie. I just got the video letter that Lana sent, and you look like hell. Well, actually, you looked great in the suit, but you just seemed like something was bothering you. I've gotten that sense from your last few letters, too, but thought it was my imagination. Now I know it's not. Are you okay? Your family? Lex?_

 _Don't scare me like this, man. I can't stop worrying about you._

 _Yours,  
"Whitney._

________________________________________

With a heartfelt groan, Lex flopped face down onto his bed and lay there limply, not moving. His head was pounding in a dull, horrible kind of way. The pain was persistent and throbbing, pressing against his skull as if his brain had swelled and were trying to burst out. Every once in a while, a knifing pain would stab into his brain, causing Lex's eyes to water and stomach to turn.

He was not in a good mood.

The phone rang, slicing into his ears painfully.

Whimpering under his breath, he dragged himself across the bed to the phone on the nightstand. "Yeah?"

"You called," Damien said, a question on his voice. "Five times. In a row. In less than a minute."

Lex sighed and rested his head against a pillow. "Dad's moving in."

There was a beat of silence. "Are you all right?"

"I've got a headache."

"Then go swimming," was the sharp reply.

"Fuck you, Damien. I'm not calling for drugs."

Another beat, then, "Get rid of the medication right now, or this conversation ends now."

Lex froze. Damien couldn't see him. He was bluffing. He didn't know. After all ...

"You have ten seconds."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Sir, I know you. I've known you for two years now, and I know when you have a headache, your primary concern is getting rid of it. Get rid of the medication I know you have now."

Growling and muttering curses about presumptuous assistants, Lex hauled himself off the bed and stalked to the bathroom. The bottle of Advil was hidden in the towels in the linen closet. Lex pulled it out and opened the bottle. "Here." He held the phone over the toilet as he poured the pills out. When the bottle was empty, he flushed the toilet and tossed the bottle. "It's not like they're strong or anything."

"The last time you decided to self-medicate, you took an entire bottle and wound up in the hospital."

"They don't fucking work!"

Damien sighed. "Sir?"

He rubbed his eyes, the pain pressing hard behind them. "I got Advil this time anyway, not what I used last time. But, that's not important. Dr. Hamilton showed Dad Clark's ship. I tried to convince him that Hamilton was nuts, and it was probably just a hunk of metal that he was showing Dad, but he's decided he wants to stay anyway. Which means I need an entire staff down here, plus physical therapist, plus medical staff of some kind on call, just in case, and a support staff in case he starts working again and ..."

"And me," Damien finished.

Lex bit his lip and shrugged. "Yeah. And you. Are you okay to come back?"

"I'll need to check with my doctor, but I'm sure I'll be fine. I still require daily therapy, but I don't need twenty-four hour care. Besides, if your father's health workers are there, I'll be provided for if there's an emergency."

Back in his room, Lex fell to the bed. "What about Dominic?"

"Your father is providing more and more input to the business these days. And Dominic had grown comfortable with his role. He doesn't need someone looking over his shoulder each night and correcting his mistakes."

Lex hesitated. "But how is he going to take it? I mean, the two of you have gotten close."

"Yes, but we always knew that, eventually, I would return to work for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

Lex nodded and rested his head against his comforter. "Okay. How long will it take you to move back?"

Damien took a few seconds before answering, "A week. Perhaps more. I've been feeling under the weather this week, so I ..."

"No rush. I don't want you to get sick."

"Really, it's nothing."

"Damien, please." Lex rolled onto his back. "How's Dr. Sutton?"

Damien coughed. "Well. Doing better. She's still slightly sore from being tossed, but she's ready to go back to work and tired of being watched over. I believe she's moving back home tomorrow."

"Good. " He rubbed his face. "Have you heard anything about Dr. Hamilton yet?"

"He's in a coma. The doctor said he's not likely to survive."

Lex sighed. "Well. That's the end of an interesting venture."

"I take it you're not going to be experimenting on the rocks anymore?"

"Not for a while. Not unless I find someone I trust with Clark's life, which isn't likely. I don't know," he sighed. "Maybe in some ways it's for the best. Not that I'm glad that Dr. Hamilton is injured and dying, but maybe I needed this as a way to finally let it go. I know where the rocks come from; I don't need to know anything else until I'm really in a position to control the results."

"Perhaps you're right."

"Yeah." Lex sighed again. "I'll start making calls tomorrow to get Dad's therapist down here."

"Allow me."

He hesitated, and then nodded. "Very well. Call me tomorrow at the usual time."

"I will."

Lex hung up and rolled onto his stomach again. He still had a headache, and now he was edgy and anxious. Dad was moving in. Damien wasn't feeling well, but at least he was coming back. Dr. Sutton was recovering. Dr. Hamilton ...

With a heavy sigh, Lex pushed himself off his bed and headed downstairs. Maybe a swim would help. And, if not, he could always drive to the store and get more pain killers.

________________________________________

 _Dear Whitney,  
 _Man, I thought I looked all right when I did the video letter. I was hoping not to bother you with any of my problems, but, on the other hand, I don't want to worry you.__

 _Lex and I are on a 'break' from our relationship right now. We've been this way for about six weeks. Right after we first broke it off, he went away on a business trip. Lana did the letter right when he came back, so I was a little messed up. But I'm fine, really. Things are good. I mean, I'd rather still be with Lex, but I'm not right now. Apparently, we have 'issues' that we both need to work through._

 _Anyway, I'm sorry to have worried you. I know that you have enough out there to worry about without thinking about me and my problems. Most of them are trivial compared to what you're going through. You know you're a hero, right? Sometimes I forget that. Instead, I get angry that my friend left. But I am proud of you._

 _School is good. My classes seem strangely easy this year. I'm sort of getting bored in math, but I guess that's normal, right? Everyone is bored in math. I'm also writing really short articles for the 'Torch.' Do you want me to write anything about you?_

 _I hope that you are safe. I hope you can write back soon._

 _Clark_

Clark reread the letter, and then reached into his desk. There was a photograph of Chloe, Lana, Pete, and Clark that they'd taken the second week of school. They were in front of the football field, arms around each other, smiling. Clark had made sure to wear his red shirt, since Whitney had once said that he really liked the way Clark looked in red.

He sighed and traced the picture. "I'm pathetic," he whispered as he folded the letter and placed it and the picture inside the envelope. He quickly addressed it and set it aside.

Then he picked up Lex's letter.

"Okay," he breathed. He'd been thinking about what he wanted to say in return for three days now. He was ready to get it onto the paper.

He thought for a moment, then began to write.

 _Dear Lex,_

 _  
_Thanks for the help the other day. It's nice to know I can still call and you'll come to help. I mean, I know that you said you always would, but it's different knowing for a fact, you know?_   
_

_I'm sorry I told Pete. Well, not sorry in the way that I'd take it back, but sorry because I know it hurt you. Honestly, Lex, I didn't do it to hurt you. I just... it all came tumbling out. I saw him driving away and all I could think was that I was losing him. I'm so tired of losing my friends; I mean, it's not like I have all that many in the first place, you know? But I didn't do it because I was angry at you, or trying to get back at you or anything. It just happened. And, strangely, it was kind of a relief._

 _Getting the ship back was a bigger relief. I've had this heavy weight pressing on my for so long. As hard as I tried not to think about it, it was always there. And I was worried. Now I don't need to worry about it anymore, and I feel... Let's say, it's like I had this long illness that I couldn't get rid of, and suddenly, I'm healthy again._

 _Except... now I'm worried about your dad. Is he going home soon?_

 _About dating other people: I don't know if I will. It doesn't seem exactly fair, does it? I keep hoping we'll get back together. I will never love anyone as much as I love you. How could I date someone else when I know that they never have a chance to be what you are to me? It doesn't seem right._

 _However, it might be kind of fun going to a club. Not to hook up with people, but just to do something that I've never done with friends. I'll have to think about that._

 _As for your situation, I think you need to go easy on yourself. Some of the stuff, yeah, you need to work on. Like working through lunch: DON'T DO IT!!!!!! I cannot stress how bad it is that you're still working through lunch. Take a break. I mean it. And, after or before you eat, stretch. Breathe. All that stuff you sent me on relaxation applies to you, too. It will help with your headaches._

 _I think you need to break down your workout through the day. Like, when you get up, run for a half hour, then take a long shower. And then, at lunch, stretch or do yoga or something. When you get home (and you need to get home or stop work at a reasonable hour), do something relaxing or just work out really hard (you know, get all hot and sweaty). But work off the stress before you do anything else._

 _As for the whole Mabel waking you up thing... Lex, you're rich. And you're used to being pampered. You don't have to give up things like getting breakfast in bed or having a human wake-up call unless you really want to. There are more important things for you to worry about. Like your health._

 _I have a confession to make: I've been really angry at you. No, angry is the wrong word. Resentful. And because I've been resentful that you pushed this whole break-up thing on me, I've been avoiding thinking about what I am and where I came from. It was stupid, I know, because it's always on my mind, now, growing bigger and scarier. I'm tired of being afraid all the time. I get what you were saying before, and ... I guess this is something I need to do. And, something I have to do relatively alone._

 _That doesn't mean I don't miss you, though, because I do. A lot. In a sort of, painful, knife through my chest sort of way. I hate this. I hate missing you and feeling so empty. I want to be with you again. I'll see you Sunday morning, ten o'clock sharp._

 _Love always,  
Clark_


End file.
